


Vulcans Don't Love (Except They Do)

by Eden (Lost_And_Insane)



Series: Spirk One-Shots [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:42:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Insane/pseuds/Eden
Summary: The way he thought, the way he acted, the way he loved. It wasn't always as logical as Spock pretended it to be.





	Vulcans Don't Love (Except They Do)

The ceiling of Kirk's quarters had a pattern. It had always been there, or at least for as long as Kirk could remember. Every night, he'd look up at it, tracing the swirls with his eyes until he fell asleep.

It wasn't until tonight that he truly realized the pattern's existence. He'd been looking up at it for years, yet never quite let it sink in enough to mean something; he'd spend every night in his own quarters, staring up at it without much thought. The ceiling he was staring at now, however, was plain— completely devoid of swirls and creases. It was white, of course, as was regulation of all rooms and corridors in the Enterprise, but it was just that. White.

Kirk could almost imagine the same pattern in the ceiling here. His eyes went over the invisible lines, halting where he knew to be a little chipped paint on his own ceiling, pretending he was seeing it now. Somehow, it made him both more anxious and calm simultaneously.

Eventually, Kirk tore his eyes away from the plain ceiling and they landed on the sleeping Spock next to him instead. Instantly, the little anxiety he'd been feeling vanished.

Kirk had been asked to describe Spock, once, a long time ago, before the two had even considered dating. He'd failed to give an answer. Spock was this complex being that failed to fit into the standard. He's not logical, not as much as Spock would like everyone to believe. No, the Vulcan was much more poetic in Kirk's mind.

The way he thought, the way he acted, the way he loved. It wasn't always as logical as Spock pretended it to be. Granted, Spock had a way with words that made everything seem so calculated and thought out, but Kirk had learned to read between the lines. He'd find unspoken ‘I love you’'s when he talked to Kirk during chess; a certain adoration beneath his professional tone as they conversed on the bridge.

Most importantly, though, Kirk was the only one who got to see this side of Spock. It was a soft side of him reserved for Kirk, and only him. Gentle touches, hints of a smile. A complex being that Kirk could call his.

“You’re thinking," Spock muttered quietly, and Kirk looked to his side, pinpointing Spock next to him. Not sleeping after all, then. He was smiling—the smallest, most unnoticeable pull at the corner of his lips, but Kirk was able to spot it even in the darkness. Spock rarely smiled so wherever he did let one slip, Kirk bathed in it, burning the image into his mind.

Kirk laughed quietly, turning onto his side and squeezing their intertwined hands, letting his joy slip through their bond. After a moment, he let go of Spock momentarily, moving his hand up to rest on the Vulcan's abdomen instead, where his heart resided.

“It’s a Terran thing,” Kirk joked lightly. “Am I being too loud?”

Although half-Vulcan, Spock’s body reacted in very human ways, Jim had noticed. He'd shiver when Kirk traced his pointed ears, or gasp during unexpected touches. Spock’s eyes were dark, yet Kirk could always see his pupils dilate after a kiss, eyes lidded. They were such small reactions, yet they meant everything to Kirk, and it was those moments that Spock seemed most happy. 

“I does not bother me. Your mind is astonishing,” Spock said in little more than a whisper. Although his voice was monotone his eyes carried his adoration, and Kirk could feel the familiar warmth through their bond—the feeling of safety that came with being at home, right at Spock’s side.

Kirk found he couldn't look away from Spock’s eyes. Both of his hands moved up to circle around the Vulcan's neck, pulling them even closer together, legs entwined and foreheads only inches away from touching. He couldn't stop smiling when he said, “Astonishing, huh?”

Spock let out a huff of air that Kirk wouldn't dare call a scoff. “Indeed. Your mind is.. bright. Vivid and beautiful. Or..” Spock paused for a long moment. “English words do not suffice.”

“You? Speechless?” Kirk's cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much; it was the best feeling in the world. “Never thought I'd see the day.”

Kirk tried to act nonchalant, like Spock’s words didn't strike him right in the heart, making his head spin and eyes tear up in happiness. He knew Spock could feel all of Kirk's reactions through the bond regardless, but it didn't matter—Spock could see all of Kirk, even the parts he'd try to hide, and that was just how they worked.

“Do Vulcan words suffice?” Kirk prompted gently, not missing the hint of amusement flickering through the bond. Kirk pretended not to notice, finally connecting their foreheads as he waited for Spock to find the words.

“Tangu. Vaksur. T'nash-veh.”

The meaning of the words was completely unfamiliar to Kirk, but his heart still started beating faster and his smile grew impossibly larger. He leaned forward to close the tiny space left between them, kissing Spock while pushing all of his love for him through their bond. Spock quickly connected their hands in a Vulcan kiss; Kirk could feel his mental shields drop all at once, taking in all of Kirk's emotions and letting it engulf him completely. 

It’s poetry, Kirk decides, and there’s no logic to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Tangu: ideal; a conception of something in its absolute perfection.
> 
> Vaksur: beauty; the quality that gives pleasure to the mind or senses and is associated with such properties as harmony of form or color, excellence of artistry, truthfulness, and originality; one who is beautiful.
> 
> T'nash-veh: mine; belonging to me.


End file.
